


Incomplete Without You

by Kaerith



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, Sex Work, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: In exile, Booker ends up making money doing internet porn.  The team uses those videos to keep an eye on his well-being. When a particular scene shows them that no one is handling their separation well, Nicky and Joe work out their own feelings and have to bring Booker back.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Comments: 41
Kudos: 163





	Incomplete Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Camboy!Booker kink meme prompt](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3653.html?thread=1038917#cmt1038917).
> 
> Trigger warnings: alcoholism, discussion of a consensual dub-con sex scene with racist Black Dom content.

After Prospect on Whitby and his sentence of exile Booker just wants to leave Europe. He needs another big city to lose himself in, and San Francisco is the first destination he sees that doesn't spark any memories, good or bad. 

Once he's there he thinks it was probably a mistake. Rent is high, and no matter how much he appreciates the culture and the ethnic diversity, he's not sure he can stay here long-term. He has rented a studio apartment and does something he hasn't done in over two hundred years: introduces himself to the neighbors. 

Laurel is a grad student studying climatology. She has a cluster of highly detailed pink flowers of her namesake tattooed on her hip that draws Booker's eye when she wears crop tops with hip-hugging jeans. She notices his attention one morning when they're both on the sidewalk smoking and eyes him back, more critically. "You wanna make a couple hundred bucks?" She asks. 

Booker is only slightly drunk; it's just 10 AM on a Saturday. "Sure. How?" 

"I do live video porn," she says without any hesitation or shame. "You come over, I give you the whole Daddy deal, and I'll split it 70/30. I won't even show your face. I'll have to see what your dick looks like, first." 

"My dick is fine," Booker says a bit defensively, feeling impossibly naive next to this 27-year-old. "And what is the daddy deal?" 

"You know," Laurel says, tossing her head to the side as she exhales smoke. "Pigtails, schoolgirl uniform, you're all _I've seen you looking at other men, you deserve to be punished._ You hold me down, spank me until I cry and tell you that I'll give daddy anything he wants. Blow job, then sex. I dunno, 15-20 minutes? How good are you are acting? You're not the type to shoot off the second you get your dick wet, right?" 

Booker is slightly aroused and Laurel almost looks bored. "I have stamina," he insists careful not to sound falsely over-confident. 

She shrugs and stubs out the last bit of her cigarette against the wall and drops it in the coffee can on the ground. "Come over in twenty minutes and do an audition. Oh, take a shower first," she adds, wrinkling her nose a little. 

* * *

Their third video together nets Booker almost $400. He has tried to negotiate his cut with Laurel, but she is sharp and confident and just shrugs and says, "My account, my followers. But I can help you set up your own." 

When she does, she has come over to Booker's apartment wearing one of those weird hooded animal all-over pyjamas with a zip up the front. He is more than mildly appalled to see the woman he has fucked so raunchly looking so genuinely childish. "Fuck off with that look," she says as she shoulders into his flat. She blows a pink gum bubble at him for emphasis. "It's cold." 

"What is it even supposed to be? A chipmunk?" 

"Bambi," she says, rolling her eyes. "Uncultured himbo," she mutters with fake disdain. She sits cross-legged on his bed and pulls her laptop over and starts typing. "You going to do solo or straight porn?" She asks. "I do not suggest you do this with random hook-ups for legal reasons." 

"You did," Booker says. 

"You weren't going to run to the cops," Laurel shoots back. "You've got three credit cards in different names, so I knew you weren't going to pull any shit like that." 

Booker is more impressed with her acumen and attention to detail than offended. "I can at least start out solo," he says. 

"Alright. What about bisexual? I mean, it'll mostly be guys watching you even if you are just jerking off, but if you put bi or gay on your profile you'll get more hits. All you really need to do is talk about wanting a fat cock occasionally," she says. "...Dildos would earn you a lot more credits, though, if you can be into that." 

"I've... experimented," Booker says, trying not to linger on the flashes of memories that brings up. 

Laurel pops her gum again and eyes him dubiously. "Really? Top or bottom?" 

"Switch," he says, a little too defiantly by the lifting of her eyebrows. (It isn't true.) 

"I'll put you down as bisexual dominant," she says, mildly. "If you change your mind and want to really make a load of coin, find another guy and advertise. _Dom gets ass-fucked for the first time._ That shit will make a mint if you build up a good rep, first." 

She then talks to him about investing in lighting and camera gear then orders him to put on some nice underwear and a tight pair of jeans and then come over in a few minutes so she can take some profile pics. 

* * *

Copley keeps tabs on Booker, at Andy's private request. He has knowledge of two aliases, and is concerned when both of them are relying more and more on credit. After three months, though, Booker seems to have gotten an income, and two months after that his finances are in much better prospects. 

Booker has a legitimate job as a rare book dealer, but Copley is concerned that he is resuming his forging activities. There are thousands of dollars coming in through online transfer services. He doesn't want to put any of his contacts on the case because most of them would arrest Booker with no hesitation if he is up to illegal activity, so he goes to California himself to check out what the man is doing. 

Instead of the depressed, alcoholic wreck Copley has expected, Booker looks healthy. There is more energy to his movements and he is dressed in well-fitted clothing. He looks nothing like a dowdy antique book appraiser, and that makes Copley very curious as to what role the man has taken on to incite that type of style. 

The one person Booker seems to spend any time with is a university student. Copley first thinks it's a simple infatuation with her, but as soon as he learns her name and looks it up he has a new hunch. It isn't a lead he particularly wants to follow, but he does and stops as soon as he can confirm Booker's new source of income without seeing too much. 

When Andy and Nile ask for an update on Booker, he assures them that he has landed on his feet. When they persist he merely says, "He is making quite the name for himself in online amateur porn," and expects their curiosity to end there. Instead, Andy hoots with laughter and says, "I bet he is." 

Nile grins and presses Copley for specifics that he does not want to give. He manages to advise Nile to Google "Jacques Lecoq" and winces as she joins Andy's cackling. 

* * *

_Dom gets ass-fucked for the first time_ wasn't the title Booker used for his first gay performance, but it was close. He had connected with another porn streamer from SF named Andre: big body and big cock and dark-skinned. They had chatted online and then met in person in the Castro and then Andre had invited Booker over to where he did his filming. 

Like Laurel, Andre didn't obscure his identity, so they worked out exactly what they were going to do and how they would do it. Andre's persona was very dominant and he also played into the Black Dom racism scene, and Booker was surprised how accommodating he was during the whole process, down to choosing the color of the silk sheets that would complement Booker's skin tone the best on camera. 

Unlike Laurel, Andre had a partner: John, a Korean man who did the camera and sound work. Booker didn't know what kind of "partners" they were, but John was professional and didn't give off any vibes of interest, jealousy, or disgust at anything Booker and Andre discussed. 

When the day came, Booker took a Muni bus to Andre's place. The entire ride as well as the walking made uncomfortable by the enormous plug he had up his ass. Andre lived in a two-bedroom, with the second room all set up and ready for their performance. They went over the last-minute details, then Booker took a shower and was blindfolded and "chained" to the bed in realistic-looking handcuffs. The fabric over his eyes hid the parts of his face he hadn't shown on camera, but was sheer enough that Booker could see quite well through it in case their nonverbal cues weren't enough. 

Booker was put on video first so that the viewers could watch him supposedly helpless and frightened, though John kept the mics off. It wasn't a rape scene, but Booker "lost his virginity" to Andre in a very thorough way and felt rather silly begging for his big black cock to ruin his hole. 

The money was entirely worth it, though. They raked in _thousands._

"It _is_ stupid," Andre said, after the scene was done. They had showered off again separately, and were debriefing with John around the table with beers. "It is offensive and racist," he added. "Scary black man fucks reluctant white guy into loving dick. At least you didn't expect me to be like that off-camera. Some guys have." 

"You were a consummate professional," Booker said. "Both of you. I appreciate it. I'm almost disappointed we won't work together again. One part of me in particular is quite relieved, however." 

* * *

There were a couple more girls, but Booker found out that Laurel was right: gay scenes made a lot more money. Over the next two years he did fifteen more livestreams with other people, as well as the solo masturbation videos he did once a week. He no longer his his face. He had a large group of devoted followers who complimented and/or insulted him as they got off on his videos, and Booker didn't particularly care what any of them said in the chats because they were all paying. He usually had hundreds of watchers and didn't scrutinize the screen names, so he didn't really notice whenever new subscribers joined. 

If he had paid attention, though, he would have picked up on the username "Scythian" and gotten suspicious. 

* * *

Andy and Nile mostly relied on the idea of time and distance cooling Joe and Nicky's anger at Booker. The men had a right to hold a grudge, but Andy didn't want them to leave Booker alone for ten years, let alone one hundred. Book needed them to stay stable, she believed. She was proud of how he was doing now, mostly sober and living as part of society, but their relationships with places and mortals couldn't last very long due to their unchanging appearances. When he had to move on to someplace else, he would only self-destruct again. 

She and Nile came up with a plan. 

"Did you see his new video?" Andy asks Nile one evening. They exchange smirks. 

"With that twink? Yeah." Nile laughs. "Is that normally his type?" 

"Porn? Really?" Joe says. "Gay porn?" 

"Booker is making a lot of money," Andy says, with a shrug. 

"Booker?" Joe says with disbelief. He and Nicky look at each other. 

"I'm sorry," Andy says with false contrition, "I know you don't want to hear about him." She stands up and Nile follows her outside, giggling over "Jacques Lecoq" loud enough that the men can definitely hear. 

It isn't subtle at all, they know, but the men need something this overt. 

* * *

Paul reaches out to Booker via email. "Hey man, you willing to do a video for our site?" Paul is one of the guys who runs a specialty porn site for gay threesomes. Booker checks it out and it is surprisingly soft stuff: no gang bangs, usually just a pair of guys who talk a third man into being between them and taking him apart slowly and thoroughly. From what Booker can tell there are four primary actors and they like to pull in the single-timers from other sites. It seems to be a business model that has earned them an enormous number of subscribers. They want Booker's 'scibers to pay to join their site, but Booker might get a few new fans of his own out of this, too. 

(He has some reservations but they are personal and not professional. Memories of the two times he had been pulled into Nicky and Joe's bed. He hadn't expected it to happen once let alone twice, and had also never expected it to be anything habitual: Joe and Nicky were a perfect pair, a yin-yang of two that comprised an equilibrium of balance that needed no one else to make them happy or whole. Of course, both times Booker had felt a private devastation afterward and had kept to himself until he recovered.) 

Paul's company has its own studio space. He is introduced to Paul in person and then Evan and Jamie. "Omar's busy today," Paul said, "but the four of us usually trade off the doing the performing and camerawork. Let me walk you through the space." 

It's impressive. The men are all young, in their twenties with classically handsome features. Booker feels the age gap between them and mentions it. "What kind of guest stars do you usually bring on? I mean, I'm a bit older." 

"All types," Paul says with a shrug. "Sure, the four of us get the viewers who like younger guys with different degrees of muscles, but variety is what keeps our subscribers paying. You know that-- we saw your video with Andre, and that isn't your usual theme. I'd love to work with him, but his persona wouldn't work with our formula and my contract doesn't let me work solo." 

* * *

"You should watch this," Andy says one day, handing her phone to Joe. He and Nicky are on the sofa, and Nicky looks over. 

"Is this one of Booker's porn videos?" Joe says. Andy just gives him a significant look and leaves the room. 

Immediately they see the resemblance: "Omar" and "Evan" are young and could pass as brothers to Joe and Nicky. 

Both of them are still nursing grudges against Booker, but they do miss him. 

Omar pushes Booker against a wall and begins to make out with him. After a minute Evan shoves in between them and takes his turn with Booker's mouth before moving his focus to his neck. Omar keeps his hands busy on Evan's torso and Evan slides his hands into the back of Book's pants. 

Shirts come off. Book's chest was broader than the boys' and they keep attacking his mouth and neck and walk him backwards to the bed. 

Omar and Booker lie down and keep making out while Eddie removes Omar's pants and then Booker's. Booker's cock springs out and Nicky's breathing begins to speed up as he sees Omar's hand wrap around it. It's almost something familiar, reminiscent of Joe's hand, and the way Book gasps and thrusts into the touch makes something in Nicky's chest seize. His grip on Joe tightens, and Joe's eyes flick to his lover with understanding and his face betrays the fact that he, too, is shaken by nostalgia and jealousy. 

Booker's groans finally are loud enough from the phone's speaker to be recognizable, and Joe feels a stab of pain and longing to hear Book's actual voice again. When had he last heard Booker _laugh?_ Or even one of those short, breathy snickers? Suddenly Joe wanted to hear Booker deadpan one of his darkly humorous melancholic asides or even just bark a command during a mission. 

Instead, he and Nicky are just grasping at sounds like every other voyeur Booker has decided to share these utterances with. Nobody else watching this _knew_ Book like them, and their separation suddenly felt like a punishment for them instead of a reprieve as they remembered who Booker was to them beyond the betrayal. 

Evan joins Book and Omar and the three men writhe together in a tangle of hands and pricks and mouths. The two younger men pair off to kiss and hold hands for a minute and Nicky thinks he catches a flash of something sad in Booker's face before he smooths his hand over Omar's shoulder and presses his mouth to his neck. 

Evan sprawls on his stomach and Booker pushes his cock into him. Evan rears his head back, eyes closed and mouth open, and Nicky remembers the first time he had taken Book's dick. Sébastien's breath had smelled like anise from absinthe, and it had curled along Nicky's cheek as they both had moaned. Nicky had probably also clenched his eyes shut to savour the sensation, and he remembered Basti had said something in French about how good Nicky had felt or how close they were. It is that emerald, liquorice-scented memory that has Nicky pressing his hand to his cock more than the video. He watches Book bite his lip and studies how his buttocks flex as he fucks the Nicky lookalike. 

Joe makes as much physical contact with his partner as he can as they watch Omar press his fingers into Booker's arse. Yusuf had been the first one to do that to Sébastien, and he had quickly melted from scepticism to delight. Basti had cursed and grabbed Joe's wrist and had breathed out a plea for Yusuf to do that again. Nicky had watched from over Joe's shoulder, his cock leaving sticky smears on Joe's skin. "How pretty," Nicky had said into Joe's ear, but it was loud enough for Basti to overhear and blush. 

When Omar slides his prick into Booker his familiar face (clean-shaven, like Nicky and Joe hadn't seen it for decades) morphs into an expression of exquisite pleasure. They only get a too-brief snatch of Booker saying, _"Ohhh,"_ like he is having a revelation at the same time Nicky and Joe are, hours or days and continents between them notwithstanding. 

"Joe," Nicky says, hushed and urgent, turning to get both of his hands on Joe's trouser fastenings. "Pause the video." 

Joe obeys and sets Andy's phone down. When Nicky comes with Joe's hand on him and his cock inside of him, he whimpers out a a cut-off, "Bas-" and Joe doesn't even care because he is thinking the same thing. 

* * *

It had been a mistake, Booker thinks for the thousandth time since filming the video with Evan and Omar. He is homesick for the family he betrayed, and can't shove aside the constant intrusive thoughts of Nicky, Joe, Andy, and Nile. He is on the bookstore manager's last nerve, and wouldn't be surprised if he gets fired. Book would be screwed if that happens, because he hasn't been able to muster any desire to even do a masturbation live stream; he's too afraid he will call out for Joe or Nicky or even cry because his mind is in a perpetual rut of _I miss them. I killed them. They hate me and I hate myself._

He has a bottle of vodka in the kitchen he has been having a stand-off with for the past eleven days. Booker knows he is close to cracking apart and giving in. 

He thinks he is hallucinating when he sees Laurel talking to Joe and Nicky, but they are really _there,_ standing in her cloud of cigarette smoke in the miniscule courtyard of his building. All three turn their heads toward Booker when he approaches. 

"I didn't think you had friends, _Booker,_ " Laurel says, using his (might as well be real) name for the first time. 

"They don't-" _do porn_ Booker manages to stop himself from finishing. He would die if they knew that's what he has been doing. And then come back to life just to do it all over again. 

"They already turned me down," Laurel says. 

"Fuck," Booker mutters. "You can't just ask every new person you meet to do a scene with you!" 

She just makes a kissy face at him. "Where would you be if I didn't?" She says. After Booker turns away to lead his visitors to his apartment, she calls after him, "I finally believe you _are_ a switch!" with a mocking tone of revelation that makes him groan. 

Booker is over two-hundred and does not want to blush like a child but he thinks he may be doing it right now. He gets his keys from his pocket. "C'mon," he mumbles at the men. Stepping into his shabby studio, his old friend vodka is the first thing to catch his eye. He wishes he was about to be getting reacquainted with alcoholism instead of Nicky and Joe. That, at least, he had mentally prepared for. He keeps his back to them and drops his bag on the floor by his bed and decides not to take off his jacket. He crosses his arms and tries to hide in the denim as he turns around to look at their feet. "Is Andy...." The question makes the guilt inside of him burn like acid reflux at the base of his throat. 

"She's fine," Nicky says. "Nile, too. Apparently they're both... fans." 

Book mangles a "Merde" and a self-deprecating huff of bitter amusement by trying to do them both at the same time with his single mouth. He can cover his face with a hand, though, so he does. "I take it you know about the," he can't choose a word that he can say out loud so he just moves on, "I did a bit ago." 

His ménage à trois had almost ended in disaster, but Booker had clung to his professionalism by his metaphorical fingernails and had only started crying in the shower afterwards. Evan, Omar, and Paul had been very nice about it before gently scolding him for not requesting a change of actors. Honestly, Booker hadn't known it would kick up memories; he and Joe and Nicky had only done it twice. 

"Andy gave us her phone and told us to watch it and then screamed and ran away when we tried to hand it back," Nicky said, his voice warm with humor. 

"We did disinfect it," Joe defended, and he, too, sounded amused. "I think she enjoys giving Nile chances to laugh at her." 

It sounded like they had _gotten off_ to the video. Booker was caught off-guard and confused, and was tempted to look at their faces, but he didn't have the courage. "So why are you both here?" 

"Jealousy," Joe says, at the same time Nicky says, "Stupidity." 

"Both," Joe says with a shrug. "Seeing you with them made us remember." 

"We handled things badly," Nicky says. 

Booker can see him walk closer and he wants to crumble and be touched, but he hangs on to his belated sense of self-preservation instead and stays still. "You don't.... But I...." There is too much inside his head, his heart. All the reasons that they _can't_ and _shouldn't_ even if Book doesn't know what they are here intending to do. Jealousy could mean they did want him or that they just didn't want him to want anybody else. Their stupidity could be that they had let him leave or that they had let him leave without exacting painful physical revenge, first. "Why are you here?" He just asks again, a bit more desperately. 

Nicky moves again and gives him a hug. "We miss you." 

Book doesn't feel like an old man as he lifts his arms to clutch at Nicky. He feels younger than Laurel at the moment: fumbling and teary-eyed and miserable at the mistakes he has made. Booker presses his face into Nicky's shoulder and says, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Then Joe is there, too, and Booker is being held by both of them while he cries. 

They all pile on the bed together and Booker is soothed by gentle touches and kind words. As soon as both the regret and self-pity start melting away, Booker's body begins to take awareness of the familiarity of sensations. The smell of Joe-and-Nicky has so rarely been associated with such closeness of their bodies. All the physical touch Book has had for almost two years was sex, and his dick is getting the wrong idea. He pulls himself out of their embrace and sits up with a soft curse to wipe his face with his hands. "Sorry," he says, unfolding himself to maneuver his way from between them. 

Joe rolls onto his back and at first Booker thinks he's just helping by getting out of his way. But then he sees Joe's hand touching himself over his jeans. "If I didn't have Nicky, I would have devoted myself to you," Joe says. 

It makes him furious, and Book scrambles past him to stand on the floor and get away. "Thanks," he spits, "But you don't need to lie and pretend that I was even a second choice. I always knew I was just a way to spice up your love life. I was just surprised that it happened twice, and I guess that confused part of me enough to think that it meant something." 

"He didn't mean it like that," Nicky said, trying to mediate again like he often did. "He means that he loves both of us and didn't know that he was allowed to do that. We are all taught that romantic love should happen with one person at a time. We were too scared to talk about it and we were too weak to resist when what we wanted seemed to be available for us to take." 

"Yeah," Booker said, sarcastically. "An unstable, alcoholic criminal is exactly the type to threaten the love story of a millennium." 

"We are not perfect!" Nicky said, loudly, gesturing between all three of them. "...And we are not complete without you! Joe and I never even told you that we have been struggling with what we both feel for you for a long time. That probably just made you feel worse and more desperate for a way out!" 

"You can't take the blame for what I did," Booker says. Unlike Nicky, Booker's voice goes more quiet as he gets angrier. "Neither of you made me sell us out and put us on those lab tables." 

"If we had been honest, maybe you wouldn't have felt so lonely and hurt," Joe points out. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, his head propped up on one arm that is braced on one knee. "Nicky and I felt like we were breaking up the team with our indecision. That year off was to give us time to talk it out and make a choice. In Marrakech we were going to ask if you wanted to be with us, as an equal partner in love and life, but then... things happened." 

"And we were hurt and angry and disappointed," Nicky adds. "It took Andy and Nile showing us that video for us to get our heads out of our asses." 

"Nothing important has changed," Joe says, his brown gaze conveying his sincerity. "I love you and I want you to be with us." 

Nicky scoots up behind Joe and puts his hands on his shoulders. "Me too. We wanted to tell you that. If you need time, we can-" 

Booker stumbles over and falls to his knees so he can put one hand on Joe's face and one on Nicky's. He gets himself back under control and starts to pull back, but Nicky holds his hand in place. "Equal?" Booker keeps looking back and forth between them. 

"Hayati," Joe says. His voice is tender, almost crooning, the exact way he has used that endearment for Nicky thousands of times. But this time he is saying it for Booker, _to_ Booker. 

"Basti," Nicky says, and that sparks the longing Sébastien had felt before that absinthe-soaked first night with them in Quartier Pigalle so long ago. Soon after he had changed his preferred name to Booker, unable to withstand the memories of how Nicky had cried out that nickname. 

Joe tangles his fingers with Booker's. "Come home," he says. "Be with us." The two phrases mean the exact same thing to Book. All he wants is here, holding their hands out to him, and he can't turn them down. 

"Yes," he says, swallowing past a lump in his throat. 

Nicky turns his head and presses a kiss to Book's palm. Joe leans forward and offers one to Booker who accepts it. Joe's grip on his hand keeps him tethered even as his mouth tries to send Booker's mind to the stratosphere with bliss. When Nicky takes a turn, Booker is almost too consumed by it to help Joe remove his jacket. The three of them take a break to breathe and undress and then move back onto the bed to touch and kiss and lick each other. 

Joe puts his hot mouth on Booker's cock and Book has to break apart from Nicky to gasp and groan. 

"Lube, Basti?" Nicky murmurs into his ear. "I want you inside of me again." 

Thank god Joe was aware enough to stop Book from coming then. He is able to open his eyes and point, and while Nicky crawls to the other end of the mattress to get it Joe moves so they can kiss again. 

They kiss differently, Booker muses. Joe is gentle and Nicky tends to be more aggressive, even using his teeth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" Joe asks. "Do you want to be between Nicky and I for real, like before?" 

"You- you saw..." 

Joe hums in confirmation and moves down to nuzzle Booker's neck. "We saw you between them. When Nicky took my cock he moaned your name." 

"Oh, God, fuck," that mental image satisfied some possessive instinct of Booker's. When he open his eyes he saw that Nicky had started fingering himself with one hand and was passing the lube to Joe. 

"I would like to prepare you, my heart," Joe said, and Booker just let himself nod and melt and let them position him. Nicky pulled him over and began giving him those fierce kisses again and Joe got behind him and pushed his fingers inside. 

When Book's dick was put into position and he thrust in, Nicky gasped. "Basti- Book, I mean, sorry." 

The moment he was sure he wasn't going to come, Booker unclenched his jaw. "You can call me that. After the last time, when you.... It was too much." 

Nicky stroked his face and nodded. "I understand." He then craned his neck to take a look at Joe. "You ready?" Joe must have given him a silent signal, because Nicky looked back at Booker and smiled. "You're going to take Yusuf's cock now." 

Joe's dick was better than all the others Book had gotten acquainted with over the last couple years. It was the first one he had known, and he felt like Joe was returning home to a place he had made inside of Booker's body for the first time so long ago. 

It was earth shattering to be pinned between Joe and Nicky again. These two men, whom he had loved and envied for almost two hundred years, surrounding him. The world narrowed to just them: the heat and slickness of lube, sweat, and spit; the press of smooth skin and scratchy hair; the way Nicky's eyelids fluttered and how he sighed, and Joe's low groans and panting breaths in Booker's ear. He was embraced not only by their bodies but by the sounds and smells of them. By their emotions: the gentleness in their touches and thrusts gaining an edge of desperation as the three chased their climaxes together. It was everything that scene with those other guys had lacked. It was even more fulfilling than the two other times Book had joined them-- this moment held all the meaning to the act that Sébastien had wished there had been before. 

Booker came first, the emotions welling up inside of him paired with the physical stimulation building up to a crescendo of pleasure and joy that was too big to contain within his body. He didn't know if he cried out Joe or Nicky's name or even a garbling of both. His face was wet and Nicky swept the tears away with his lips and fingers. 

They kept themselves curled around him even as their bodies softened in the afterglow, another difference between their past experiences and now. Joe's mouth rested on Book's shoulder, letting him feel the smoothing out of his breath against his skin, and Nicky had his forehead nestled in the crook of his neck on the other shoulder. When Joe rolled off, he kept himself wrapped around Sebastien. 

"We will stay until you are ready to leave," Nicky said, stroking his side. "Here or somewhere else in the city." 

"There is nothing keeping me here," Booker said honestly. 

"Then we will take you home," Joe said, making relief burst inside of Book and filling him up. It didn't matter where his family had been staying, where they would travel to: Nicky and Joe and Andy would be there, and Nile, and that was the home he had been missing. The home he had lost because of his own actions. 

"We all want you back," Nicky said. "Joe and I were the ones being stubborn about it. Andy's patience with us finally ran out, and she will be smug about finding the thing that brought us to our senses." 

"Mmm," Joe murmured agreeably. "The teasing will be intense." 

Nicky huffed a chuckle. "I'm not even sure us having sex will make them leave us alone. After all, both she and Nile seem to be fans of yours, Basti." 

"Oh shit," Booker groaned in embarrassment. But not even the dread of meeting the women's eyes and enduring the humiliation could puncture the bubble of hope and longing to return to his family.


End file.
